


Something

by eiluned



Category: Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Declarations Of Love, F/M, Fluff, Music, but not songfic, not really anyway, oh it's just fluff, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-28
Updated: 2012-09-28
Packaged: 2017-11-15 05:37:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/523748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eiluned/pseuds/eiluned
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Natasha steals Clint's beloved iPod and finds something rather surprising on it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something

**Author's Note:**

  * For [redledgers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/redledgers/gifts).



> For Kris's birthday; hope you like it! <3 Thanks to Amanda, SidheRa, and euphoricsound for the beta reads! And as always, I value feedback like the treasure it is.

Natasha stole Clint's iPod one afternoon when he was distracted by a mountain of overdue paperwork.

He was always so protective of it, which struck her as ridiculous. It wasn't that he was afraid someone would steal it--he had a bad habit of leaving it on the table in the commissary while he went to get a refill on his coffee--but if she asked to see it, he'd tuck it away in his pocket as his only response.

It lay forgotten on the edge of his desk, and as he bent over a mission report, she palmed it, tucking it up her sleeve. "I'm out of here," she said, strolling over to the door. "Have fun with your reports."

"'Fun' and 'reports' do not belong in the same sentence, Nat," he grumbled without looking up.

She stifled the urge to grin. "Maybe you shouldn't put it off so long," she said. "See ya."

Her pilfered prize clutched in her palm, she closed the door on his glare and hightailed it before he noticed his precious iPod was missing.

\-----

When she was safely ensconced in her apartment, she curled up on the couch and swiped the iPod's screen. His passcode was absurdly easy to guess--she made a mental note to chastise him for that--and then it felt like she had finally found the Holy Grail.

There was no rhyme or reason to how his app icons were arranged, other than the first page containing every iteration of Angry Birds ever made along with a few shooting games. But she wasn't interested in his pig-shooting scores.

She tapped the Music icon and found his playlists. "Let's see," she said, scrolling down the list. "'Archery is Fucking Awesome,' heh. 'Car Rides.' 'Fuck You Nick Fury,' oh that's nice. 'Insomnia.' 'Na--'"

Blinking, she stared at the screen for a long second, her mouth hanging open. "'Natasha,'" she murmured, her thumb hovering over the playlist name.

Stealing his iPod had been a harmless prank up to that point, but seeing her name made her suddenly feel like she was invading his privacy. There wasn't much they didn't share with each other, but she had a few secrets that she kept close to her chest, and she knew he did, too. She hadn't expected to run into a line while looking at his music, but she sensed that crossing this line could mean changing their dynamic, the way she looked at him, their comfort level.

Or it could be nothing. Just a playlist full of songs that irritate her, like that "Sweet Caroline" song he used to sing because it drove her crazy.

Curiosity got the better of her. She opened the playlist.

And she crossed that line.

She knew most of the songs--it would have been impossible to be around Clint for any length of time and not hear them--but she had heard them in his car or in his apartment, in innocuous situations, without the association of her name on a playlist.

The thing that made her heart suddenly pound in her throat, the thing that she had never noticed hearing those songs in such disparate situations, was that they were all love songs.

Love was something she never really thought about. It had been drilled into her head that love was useless, that it was a hinderance, dead weight that would slow you down and make you weak. But that was before, before Clint and S.H.I.E.L.D. and before she'd remade herself into her own woman. She never thought about it because it was such a foreign emotion, something other people experienced, people she passed on the street who held hands as they walked and didn't have to face the chance that they might die tomorrow.

Or that their partner might die, and they might not be able to save him.

She had reached into her bag and retrieved her earbuds before she even really realized what she was doing. Plugging them in, she leaned back against her couch cushions and pushed play, tipping her head back to stare at the ceiling.

_\--_

_Feelin' that feelin' again_  
 _I'm playin' a game I can't win_  
 _Love's knockin' on the door of my heart once more_  
 _Think I'll let her in before I begin_

_\--_

_You're dangerous 'cause you're honest_  
 _You're dangerous, you don't know what you want_  
 _Well you left my heart empty as a vacant lot_  
 _For any spirit to haunt_

_\--_

_I want you_  
 _I want you so bad_  
 _It's driving me mad_  
 _It's driving me mad_

_\--_

_Give me a sign and let me know we're through._  
 _If you don't love me like I love you._  
 _But if you cry at night the way I do I'll know that somebody's lying._

_\--_

She just barely heard her door click shut underneath the music, and her hand automatically darted to the holstered gun sitting on the couch beside her.

Clint stood with his back against the door, his arms crossed over his chest, watching her while George Harrison crooned in her ear:

_Something in the way she knows,_  
 _And all I have to do is think of her._  
 _Something in the things she shows me._

Thumbing the pause button, she tugged the earbuds loose and looked back at him, pressing her lips together because she had no idea what to do or say. Everything felt mixed up in her head; she was a little ashamed that she'd invaded his privacy, but at the same time, she felt like she could suddenly see him more clearly. The way he would grin at her in the middle of a firefight, how he would touch her hand when he knew she was upset... hell, the way he could tell that she was upset even when she was doing her best to hide it--and she was very good at hiding her emotions--all of those little things that made their partnership... no, relationship what it was, they suddenly had a much deeper meaning. She could see it in how he looked at her now, how he took all of her in and accepted her for everything she was.

She took a deep breath and bit her lip, looking back at him and realizing just how much of him he let her see.

"I was wondering where I left that thing," he said after a moment. "Thought maybe I'd forgotten it in Coulson's office or the caf. Didn't realize I'd left it in your pocket."

"Maybe you should keep better track of your things," she replied, one corner of her mouth curving up before she could stop it. "Oh, and 1234 is a terrible passcode."

Returning her half-grin, he shuffled across the living room to sit next to her on the couch. "So," he said, leaning back and propping his feet up on the coffee table, "Find anything interesting on there?"

There was a schooled nonchalance to his tone; if she didn't know him as well as she did, she probably wouldn't have even realized that he was faking it, that he was nervous underneath his casual exterior. It was comforting in a strange sort of way that she knew him as well as he knew her.

But she had crossed that line, and now it was time to... do something. Step back? Pretend she hadn't found that playlist and listened to all of the songs that made him think of her? Pretend that she hadn't just discovered that her partner was probably in love with her, if the songs were any indication of his feelings? Pretend that she hadn't spent half an hour listening to those songs and slowly coming to the realization that all those long looks they shared, the deep trust they had nurtured over the years, the closeness she had never felt with anyone else, all of that had turned into something much deeper than partnership or even friendship?

Years ago, before Clint and S.H.I.E.L.D. and all of this, she would have been horrified at the idea of being so open with someone. Now? She couldn't imagine going back to that lonely life before Clint.

She didn't want to step back.

Catching his face in her hands, she leaned into him and pressed her lips against his, smiling at his surprised intake of breath. One of his hands came up to slide into her hair, and when she tilted her head a little, he wrapped his other arm around her waist and pulled her into his lap, kissing her deeply.

His lips were soft against hers, his stubble a little rough against her skin, his body solid underneath hers, his hands gentle and warm where they held her, and the feel of him, the intimacy of what they were doing, took her breath away. Leaning closer, she stroked her thumbs across his cheeks and slid her hands back into his hair, cupping the back of his head, slipping down to grip the nape of his neck, and nothing had ever felt like this. It was completely new and yet as comforting as slipping into an old sweater. They knew each other so well that the kiss was barely awkward at all; they fell into it as if they had been training for it their whole lives together, and maybe they had.

When she pulled away to catch her breath, he brushed his nose against her cheek. "If I had known this would happen, I'd have let you steal my iPod a lot sooner," he rumbled.

"Let me steal it?" she said with a huff of laughter. "Please. It was like taking candy from a baby."

"I, uh... I didn't want you to find out like that," he said a little sheepishly.

"You think it would've been less awkward to sit down and talk about it?"

His smile was a little uncertain, and she knew hers was, too. This was uncharted territory for her, but it wasn't quite as intimidating as she had expected it would be. It was Clint. She knew he would always be there to catch her, the same way she would always be there to pull him to his feet.

"C'mere," he said, shifting her off of his lap and standing up.

He disconnected her headphones from the iPod and pushed play, pulling her up into his arms. She tucked herself against his body, wrapping her arms around his waist, pressing her face into his shirt, and they slowly swayed together to the tinny sound of The Beatles.

**Author's Note:**

> The songs are: "Foolish Heart" by Steve Perry, "Who's Gonna Ride Your Wild Horses" by U2, "I Want You (She's So Heavy)" by The Beatles, "Somebody's Crying" by Chris Isaak, and "Something" by The Beatles.


End file.
